


Routine

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drowning, Emotions, Feelings, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbating, Rape, Torture, beatings, c&b torture, kidnappping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26646904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: Again, John is kidnapped. The same procedure as always. Orders are given by Moriarty and Moran does the dirty work.This time, Moriarty humiliates Sherlock. He forces him to send a video to rescue John.John is returned with the usual wounds and bruises, as always. But now they are planing their revenge and bringing Mycroft into the game.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Sebastian Moran, Sebastian Moran/James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter One

Sherlock stood in front of the window in their living room. His eyes scanned the people passing by. He was waiting for John. Where the fuck was John? He checked his watch again. He was late. Normally he wasn’t late. And even if he was, he always called to tell him or texted him. He checked his mobile. Nothing, no missed calls, or new texts.

His shift had ended two hours ago and still he hadn’t come back. Tesco was on his way, so there was no plausible reason for him being that late. Sherlock worried his lips. In fact, he was worried. He didn’t want to think about kidnapping. Not again. He sighed and closed his eyes.

The last time John had been taken away had been a horrible experience; for both Sherlock and John. John had been unconscious almost all the time and he didn’t even remember how they got him. Sherlock had found him after three days. He only had been given water but no food and he was lifeless on the ground when Sherlock arrived at the scene. He had also been beaten and someone had obviously wanked over him because he was covered in crusted cum. He was also naked; a fact which didn’t go amiss on Sherlock. No one up to today had taken responsibility for the kidnapping. Of course, Sherlock assumed something and had some ideas but he couldn’t tell for sure.

Again, he checked his mobile. Still nothing. Of course, he would have heard it if there was a message. He stared at the display willing it to lighten up and tell him that John was OK. He wondered if he should ask Mycroft to check the CCTV. But he would only tell him he was over-reacting. It was only two hours. But it wasn’t like John not to tell him if he was late.

Finally, he decided to call his hospital. The secretary told him he had left on time. He thanked her and ended the call.

John was missing. Again.

***

John slowly woke. He was poked in his side and it was such a disturbing feeling. He tried to move his hands up but found he couldn’t. He suddenly realised that his hands were tied on his lower back. This made him wake up rather quickly. He opened his eyes and looked directly into very dark-brown ones. Actually, they were almost black.

“Not you again …” He almost moaned when he recognised James Moriarty hovering above him. He had stopped poking him when he had opened his eyes. Now he palmed his face instead and his thumb stroked over his cheekbone.

“Aren’t you secretly pleased to see me again, Johnny-Boy?” He shook his head trying to shake off his hand.

“No!” John tried to bite him but James Moriarty was too quick. He bit into nothing making his teeth clack and made him grin. He stood and straightened his clothes. He looked down and whispered:

“Well, well, John. I can’t tolerate that kind of behaviour. I think you need to be taught a lesson.”

“You don’t want me here on the ground. You actually want Sherlock and you know it!” Moriarty had been walking away already but now slowly turned around again.

“But it’s so much fun seeing him in pain when I torture you. It’s much better than hurting him directly. He would endure everything for you. And that would be so boring for me. Instead hurting you directly is much more fun. Watching him suffer and making him dance.” He giggled insanely and John watched him leave.

When he was gone, John scanned the room for cameras or anything he could use. He needed to get rid of his restraints and run away. He leant against the wall and fumbled with the rope. He couldn’t reach the knot though; this had been done perfectly.

Suddenly the door crashed open and banged against the wall. John watched Colonel Moran entering the room.

“Hello again, Captain!” John got up on his legs and faced him.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” He approached him and stared into his eyes.

“I am afraid I can’t do that. My boss gave me very clear instructions.” He pressed John against the wall and brought his face close up.

“And he would be insanely happy if you tried something right now. You know he is watching us, don’t you?” John slowly nodded. Sebastian took him by the arm and brought him outside. They walked over the aisle and then downstairs. They entered another room and Sebastian pulled a rather big knife out of his boot. He turned John around and cut the rope around his wrists.

“You know how James plays the game. Just give in.” John bit his lip. Of course, he knew. He had been through this before. He began to undress and just dropped his clothes on the floor. He shivered; it wasn’t really warm down here. His feet were getting cold. And suddenly the voice came over the well-hidden speakers.

“Johnny-Boy, don’t be so untidy! You are giving me even more reasons to punish you!”

“You don’t need me giving you reasons, you sick fuck!” John shouted angrily.

“Sebby! Go ahead! Don’t be boring!” Colonel Sebastian Moran waved his hand and turned back to John.

“Come on! Let’s get started!” He broadly smiled and reached out for him knowing very well John wouldn’t just let him hurt him. And he was right, of course. John fought back even though he was much shorter than Moran. And he also was a close-combat fighter. But he was also John, meaning he wouldn’t fight unfair. He knew he should, but he didn’t.

“You lost weight since last time. Doesn’t Sherly feed you properly?” John didn’t react to Moriarty’s statement over the speakers. Moran tired him out over the time. He knew he was allowed to play a bit, but James couldn’t be bored. So finally, he just caught him by the wrist and turned it around. John screamed and paled. Moran let go and took him into a bear-hug from behind. He held him close with one arm and the other was on his crotch. He rudely pressed his cock.

“Stop fidgeting right now!” The pain was severe and he stopped moving. He never had had a chance anyway. He just gave in holding his throbbing wrist.

“Sebby! Not good enough!” Moriarty’s voice yelled out of the speakers again. John tensed and ground his teeth. Moran changed the grip on him and started to shake him properly. When he was done, he pushed him forward. John stumbled at once being dizzy. He fell on his side and groaned. Moran was by his side at once and pulled his arms back. He used cable straps to tie his wrists and the plastic cut into his flesh. Then he pushed him down on a chair and tied his legs to it. He wound a length of rope around his neck and chest and connected it with the chair. Then he hit him flat on the face several times very hard. He lowered his head and held his lips close to John’s ears.

“You know what he wants, John. Give it to him and we will let you go sooner.” He whispered and his lips lightly brushed over his ear. John closed his eyes and tried to move his head away. Moran just fisted into his hair and held him in place. And then he licked a wet stripe over his face. John didn’t move a muscle. He only once jerked when Moran stuck his tongue into his ear.

He watched him move over to the wall and pick up a cane. He moved it through the air several times and came back. He stood beside John and suddenly started to hit him on his thighs. Welts were forming at once and he shook in his restraints.


	2. Chapter Two

_“Check your e-mails, Sherly!”  
JM_

Sherlock stared at his mobile and then moved quickly over to his laptop. There was an e-mail from Moriarty and he clicked the link. Then he had to sit down. Moriarty had sent some pictures with comments. And then there was the live-feed. Sherlock could see how Moran tied him to the chair. He could see him being touched. Finally, he had to watch John being beaten with a cane by Moran. It hurt his heart when listening to his screams. His mobile rang. Now he even called him. Sherlock picked up at once.

“What do you want?” He tried to stay calm.

“I want you to suffer, Sherlock. I want your heart bleeding out. Slowly. Painfully.”

“Why don’t you take me instead? Leave John alone!”

“No! That’s no fun hurting you, beating you up, you know? Your body is just transport to you; you don’t care.”

“What do you want?” Sherlock asked for the second time and Moriarty giggled.

“I want you to suffer! I want you to cry and beg! I want you to record it and send it over to me!”

“OK.” Silence.

“What?”

“I said OK. You will receive the video later tonight.”

“I am excited!” And then he hung up. Sherlock watched the live-feed. John’s body was trembling and he could hear him cry. Moran looked directly into the camera and grinned. Then he knelt in front of John and placed his dick in a vice. He screwed it tight and made John scream in agony until he lost consciousness.

His mobile dinged again and he checked it. There was another e-mail.

“I don’t want you to record anything. I want it live. Place yourself in front of the camera and look right into your web-cam. I will tell you what to do.” Sherlock did exactly that and waited.

“Visit this site and click the button _Visitor Room_.” He did that, too, and saw the red light come to life. He could hear his voice now.

“There you are, Sherly. You look stricken. This will be so good!”

“What do you want me to do?” He looked directly into the camera. He could see Moran return to John who was barely conscious. He gave him some water and also cleaned his wounds. The vice stayed on. A little table was placed in front of them and a laptop was placed on it. Probably John could see Sherlock now. And he was, Sherlock could see the impression on John’s face. He really was like a book. Every single emotion showed on his face.

“You two, nod if you can hear me!” Sherlock and John nodded. They could hear him clap his hands.

“Perfect! Now Sherly, as you can see, John already is naked. Now it’s your turn to shed your clothes.” Sherlock started to undress. He didn’t care if he was naked. When he heard Moriarty’s breathing though, he felt a bit weird. He also saw John stare at the screen. He had seen him naked before, because often he was walking through the flat not thinking of getting dressed or only dressed in a sheet.

“Beg!” Sherlock swallowed and cleared his throat.

“Please, let him go. I am begging you, please!” Suddenly Moran moved over to John and took the vice off.

“That was at least worth the vice but nothing more. Be a bit incentive!” Sherlock dropped on his knees and adjusted the laptop. He reached out for the screen and his eyes were big. John had told him before what a prick he was for being such an actor.

“Please, don’t hurt him anymore, please! I’ll do what you want, but please leave him alone!” Now he folded his hands and held them up. He stared wide-eyed into the web-cam and willed his lips to quiver. A tear rolled down his cheekbone.

“And people insinuate you have no heart. But you do have one and it belongs to John Hamish Watson. Ah, I am close to tears myself now. Oh, stay where you are. It looks good.” Sherlock stayed on his knees and watched Moran untie John. He made him stand but he fell against him. Right after that, he could see Moran drag him out of the room.

“We are all alone now, Sherly. I want to let you know how pleased I am with your behaviour. There is one last thing I want you to do.” Sherlock had his hands folded like he was praying and maybe he was.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Wank until you come. Only then I will text you the place where you can pick up John. If you fail the flood will take him.” Moriarty really did surprise him. He looked unblinkingly into the web-cam.

“You want me to wank until I come?”

“Yes! And you better start right away. Sebby is already on his way.” Sherlock’s long fingers wound around his cock and he slowly started to move them up and down. He placed the laptop on the floor in front of him because he was still kneeling.

“Talk to me, Sherly! Tell me about your dirty little fantasies! Tell me what you and John are doing together!” The hell he would but he had to make something up. Moriarty obviously thought they had sex. But they didn’t. Sherlock loved John but hadn’t ever tried anything. He was afraid he would lose the best friend he ever had. He actually had no idea if John even wanted to have sex with men or him at all.

“He likes to bottom for me. I tie him to my bed and fuck him raw. I make him come until he cramps. Very often I have to gag him because Mrs Hudson would be worried.” He was hard by then and pressed his thumb on the slit. His other hand found his balls and he fondled them. He was panting and sweating. He wondered if John would be shown this by Moran. He became even harder.

“Really?” Sherlock just nodded and croakily replied after a few seconds:

“Yes, really. I am not lying to you. I don’t want you to hurt John or tell Moran to do so.”

“I can see you are telling the truth. By the way, you are beautiful like this. I would like to top you one day.” Sherlock started to move faster.

“Suck your fingers!” He stuck two fingers into his mouth and sucked and licked them. He could hear Moriarty breathe rather loudly.

“Move your hips!” Sherlock’s eyes were half-closed and he slowly rotated his hips. He felt his balls pull up and moved faster. He came on his laptop and had bit his finger. It was bleeding and he unconsciously licked it clean. And then he heard it.

“Oh, my fucking God!” Then a shout and then something fell. Sherlock looked at the screen and wondered what was happening. Should he ask? Just then he heard Moran.

“Jesus, boss! What the fuck happened? Are you hurt? What?” Then the screen went black and Sherlock relaxed. He walked into the bathroom and washed his hands. Then he cleaned his laptop and got dressed again. His mobile dinged and he snatched it up.

_“This is where you can pick him up: Foot of Tower Bridge. You better hurry, it will be completely flooded soon.”  
SM_

Moran texted him now? What the fuck did happen to Moriarty? He checked the Thames flood data and found he had half an hour left to find and free John. He dashed outside and called Lestrade on the way.

***

When Moran took off the vice he blacked out. He came back to life because he was freezing. His limp body dangled over someone’s shoulder, probably Moran’s. John smelled water and it was pitch black. He could see him walk through the water and little waves splashed around his boots. When they reached a pole, which stuck in the mud, he was placed against it. And then he was tied against it. He was still naked.

“Do you know where you are?” Moran asked him not really expecting an answer because he kept talking.

“In the middle ages, criminals were tied to the poles here and left for the flood to take them. Well, the flood is coming up. Just pray that Sherlock is quick enough.”

“Moran, you prick, let me go! You can’t leave me behind!”

“Oh yes, I can, Captain.” He forced his mouth open and stuffed a piece of fabric inside. John wildly shook his head but soon his mouth was covered by some tape. He wasn’t able to call out for help.

“See you!” Moran left and John started to move around wildly. His legs hurt like fuck and he couldn’t breathe properly due to his clotted nose. He watched the water come closer. He trusted Sherlock, his best friend. He swore to himself he would tell him about his feelings if he would survive this.

He could hear people walk by and cars drive on the streets above him, but who would look down? He had chafed his wrists open by now but couldn’t get rid of the rope.

The water had reached him by then and pooled around and over his feet. John thought of what Sherlock had done, was forced to do. He had seen him getting undressed. He also had been begging on his knees. Finally, he was even getting himself off. He did all that for him, it was unbelievable. How could people ever think he had no heart or feelings? John knew it better.

He did all these undignified things to save him. John cried when he saw him. Even though he knew he was such a brilliant actor. But he could see his eyes, they were different.

He got distracted again by the water which was splashing around his knees by now. Where was Sherlock? He was getting really cold. He needed to move, he couldn’t get too cold that’s why he dug in his feet and pressed against the wooden pole. It didn’t move a bit but he tried again and again until he was barely able to get enough air into his lungs.

By time the water moved higher and higher. His waist was covered by now and he was trembling badly. He pressed desperately against the pole but wasn’t able to push it back and out. He saw black dots and his nose was clotted. He tried to free it and snot ran over his chin.

A few more minutes passed by and the water reached his chest. Suddenly there was the voice, his voice.

“John!” He turned his head but couldn’t see him. He could only see a shadow by the far side of his eyes. The water had reached his shoulders now.


	3. Chapter Three

Sherlock hailed a cab and bribed the driver to rush to the bank beside the Tower Bridge. Lestrade was on his way already, too. He had texted him just a few seconds ago.

Sherlock ran over the promenade and tried to look down. He stood on the wall of the promenade and stared down.  
He could hardly see anything; it was too dark down there. He stood on the wall and held his torch down moving the light over the bank and the water. And then he saw him tied to a pole already almost completely covered by the water.

“John!” He yelled down to alert him, to let him know he was here to help him. He shed his coat and shoes but kept his pocket knife in his trousers. Then he climbed over the wall and threw himself into the water. The water had reached John’s neck and Sherlock dove to cut the ropes. The water was extremely cold and he couldn’t see a thing. He stuck the torch between his teeth and cut through the ropes. He underestimated the current though and lost the torch halfway through. He swore but felt for John’s wrists and kept cutting. John pulled like a maniac and Sherlock finally managed to cut through it.

Finally, his hands were free and they shot up. Sherlock tried to peel off the tape with his ice-cold frozen hands. John’s hands clung to him and his legs were moving. Bubbles were already coming out of his mouth and Sherlock pushed up with all his strength left. They broke through the water and he held him tight.

“John, can you hear me? John?” He turned him around holding him in a dead man’s grip. John retched up some water but then coughed out:

“Sherlock, oh God, thank you! I thought …” His hands were on his arm again and fisted into his shirt. Sherlock thought where the fuck Lestrade was but suddenly a police cruiser moved over the water and they were bathed in the floodlight. As soon as they were caught in it, the cruiser came over and hands pulled John on board. Sherlock held on to the steel ladder at the side and waited until it was his turn.

Lestrade was on board the cruiser and threw a blanket over his thin frame. Sherlock’s teeth shattered and he was moved below. Greg handed him some hot tea. Then he looked over his shoulder and added some whiskey out of his pocket. Sherlock downed it in one go. Then Greg’s radio went on and Donovan said:

“I found the freak’s coat and shoes.” Sherlock looked up and smiled.

“We meet at the Yard. I will bring him over.”

“I want to see John.” The same second Molly entered the room.

“He is fine.” Sherlock looked at her.

“I do hope so even though you are here. You only do post-mortems.”

“She was available. And she is a doctor. He will live.”

“The welts though look wicked.”

“I will take care of it. Can he go home with me?” Lestrade looked at Sherlock.

“You should have Molly check on you, too. You look hellish.”

“I am fine.” Molly looked at him.

“No, you are not. And you gave him alcohol, Greg. You shouldn’t have done that and you know it!” Greg managed to look guilty and Sherlock just downed the rest of the tea.

“Where is John?”

“On a stretcher. I gave him something to sleep. He is hypothermic and he needs to get warm.”

“Does he need medical attention?” She shook her head.

“No, but he should be monitored.”

“Then he will be coming home with me. End of discussion.” He looked at Greg.

“Get us home. Please.” Greg was surprised. Sherlock had said _Please_. He sighed and nodded. Molly just threw her arms up but didn’t intervene. Then he followed her into another cabin where John was just waking up again. His head turned and he was covered by several blankets. Sherlock hurried to his side. He lowered his head and droplets of water fell down on John’s face.

“I will take you home now.” He just nodded and one hand slowly came out from under the blankets. It was cold as ice when he touched Sherlock. He started to rub it at once and blew onto his palm.

“Give me some water…” John croakily said and Molly brought over a plastic cup with a straw. Sherlock snatched it out of her hand and held it up to John’s mouth. He sucked up the water and closed his eyes for a second. Then he tried to sit up. He was still a bit dizzy but it worked.

“John, if I let you go with Sherlock now, you have to come back latest the day after tomorrow to file your report.” John looked at him and nodded. Sherlock said:

“We know the drill, Lestrade. Would you please take us home now?”

“Sure.” He nodded and both of them helped John get up and off the boat. Lestrade made him sit on the back-seat of his police cruiser and drove them himself. Donovan handed Sherlock his coat and shoes. His wallet was still in the pocket and so was his mobile. He wondered if she had a look. But then she would know and tell Lestrade. He muttered thanks and sat on the passenger’s seat, so John could stretch out in the back.

He looked over his shoulder and saw John staring back at him. He encouragingly smiled at him and John closed his eyes. Sherlock looked out of the window and saw they were close to home already. Lestrade stopped directly in front of 221B and Sherlock opened the door. They helped John out who still was clad only in the blankets. He swayed on the spot and closed his eyes again. Greg steadied him and John leant against him. Sherlock opened the door only to be greeted by Mrs Hudson who at once dashed back inside to brew tea for them.

Greg almost carried him upstairs.

“Get him into my bedroom.”

“No, need warmth. Bathroom, Greg.” John murmured and Greg sat him on the toilet's lid. He rinsed the tub and started to fill it with hot water. Then he took the blankets away and saw his tormented body. The welts were dark red and some of them had been bleeding. He was also bruised. He lifted him into the water and put a towel beneath his head. Greg waited for Sherlock to return. He could hear him talk to Mrs Hudson and finally he came inside holding a mug. Greg stood and looked him up and down.

“Do you need help with anything, Sherlock?” But he shook his head.

“No, Greg. You already did everything possible. We owe you big time.” Greg smiled and just left. Now Sherlock sat on the lid and looked at John. He somehow was glad that Greg had taken care of John, had helped him upstairs and prepared the bath for him. When he saw John leaning against Greg, he had to close his eyes for a second. A pang of guilt and jealousy shot through him. But Greg just was a care-taker, he took over by instinct. A thing Sherlock never was able to do himself. Not even if he wanted it for John. He inwardly sighed and returned to the present. John was looking at him and Sherlock gave him a very lopsided smile.

“The sick fuck sent your clothes. Mrs Hudson found a package in front of the door about an hour ago.”

“Hm…” John didn’t answer properly. His eyes were closed now and he just laid motionless in the hot water.

“Are you hurting, John? What can I do?” He opened one eye.

“My thighs burn like hell and I am wondering, if I can ever fuck someone again …” Sherlock had a closer look at his cock. It was badly bruised and skin was chafed off, too.

“I saw what he did to you.” Sherlock whispered roughly. His feelings threatened to overwhelm him.

“I saw what you did for me.” They looked at each other and John held up his head as if waiting for something. Sherlock wanted nothing more than a kiss. He came closer and pretended to examine his face. In the process, he brushed his lips over John’s temples. He didn’t jerk away, Sherlock noted with interest. He had to be careful. He couldn't lose him because he was acting wild.

“Molly gave me some ointment for you. When you are done bathing, I will apply it.”

“OK, but I want to eat first. I am so fucking hungry.”

“Do you want me to order something?” But he shook his head.

“No, not that much. Just a sandwich and an omelette, please. At least try, OK?” Sherlock nodded. Somehow, he would manage that for John.

“Are you warm again? See? I hung up your bathrobe over the heating and your socks, too. The pyjama is warming up in the living room where I made a fire.” He proudly looked at John obviously waiting for praise. And John didn’t disappoint him.

“That sounds great, Sherlock. Will you help me up, please?” When he was clad in his pyjamas and bathrobe and sat with his legs pulled under, he sighed. He could hear Sherlock rummage in the kitchen. There would be chaos but he didn’t mind. Sherlock’s signs of friendship and even love were always different from others.

Suddenly Mrs Hudson knocked and entered their place.

“Huhu, boys. I thought you might want a snack?” Sherlock happily smiled and John thanked her. She came over to Sherlock and the counter and placed her offerings. It smelled delicious. Then she looked at Sherlock.

“Young man, change your wet clothes right now or it may kill you.”

“I need to make him eat first, Mrs Hudson.” But she shook her head.

“No, I will. You go and change now!” Sherlock looked at her and she loaded a plate for John who already looked a bit greedy. Sherlock quickly disappeared into his bedroom and shed the wet things. Now that he thought about it, he felt bloody cold. He shivered and rubbed over his arms and legs. Then he dressed into sweatpants, socks, and a hoodie. He even towelled his hair which made him look more insane than ever. He returned into the living room and saw Mrs Hudson fetch John his second helping.

“I take over now, Mrs Hudson. Thank you so much!” She smiled up at him.

“That insane little man! You should do something about him. Or tell your wicked brother!” Then she left and stomped down the stairs. Sherlock smiled after her.

“Are you feeling better?” He sat on his armrest and carded through his short, fine hair. He looked up and tiredly smiled. He didn’t even mind the touching. Sherlock meant well and he obviously needed this.

“Yes, I actually do. I am here with you. I am fine, Sherlock. You saved me.” Sherlock looked at John and wanted to tell him how much he loved him, how much he wanted him. But he couldn’t.

“Come to bed then and I will apply the cream.” John carefully stood and Sherlock had to steady him when they walked over. John stood in Sherlock’s bedroom and questioningly looked up at him.

“This is your bedroom, Sherlock. Mine is upstairs.”

“I want you to stay here tonight just in case you need something or have nightmares. Please?” John found it a bit weird but he liked being taken care of, cuddled in fact by Sherlock Holmes. He couldn’t ever have thought of something like this and he decided to accept his offer.

In front of the bed, John shed his pyjamas and lay on his back. Very carefully Sherlock applied the ointment. John’s eyes were wide open when he took his prick in his hand. John hissed and Sherlock only moved feather-light over the abused flesh. When he was done, he pulled the pyjamas back up and crawled into bed with him.

Neither said something about these intimate touches. John turned on his side facing away from him. He needed to hide his erection. Sherlock’s hand slowly moved down and palmed his prick. Then he willed it to go away. It was just transport anyway.

***

_“Oh, my fucking God!” Then a shout and then something fell. Sherlock looked at the screen and wondered what happened. Should he ask? Just then he heard Moran._

_“Jesus, boss! What the fuck happened? Are you hurt? What?” Then the screen went black…_

Moran had returned to the house by the river. He had tied John to the pole and also had gagged him. Somehow, he liked the man and somehow it hurt him to treat him like that. But he owed Moriarty. He also liked him a lot. He would never deny his wishes.  
He was convinced that Sherlock Holmes would make it in time. He had texted him already being on his way back.

The moment he walked into the room he heard Moriarty call out and then he saw him stumble. His trousers were open and he was holding his cock staring at the screen where Sherlock was wanking. Moran’s mouth stood open. This was an amazing sight. Both of them were. Jesus, his boss was even drooling. He was so focused on the screen and watching Sherlock he missed the table’s edge and bumped his cock against it. He shouted and came over his hand and everything else which was close. His prick hurt like hell and he fell down on his knees. On his way, he hit the table again and made the laptop fall off and it shattered on the ground.  
Moran hurried over to Moriarty and knelt by his side. He was sticky with cum and was panting.

“Sebby…” Whining modus, Sebastian thought, so not good.

“Yes, boss?” He didn’t dare touch him, not without being told.

“Help me up, you utter moron!” Now he made him stand up. He still swayed but leant back against Moran and stuck his dick back into his pants.

“Tissue!” Moran got a wet tissue and handed it over. Moriarty wiped his hands and just dropped it on the floor. Moran helplessly looked his boss over the shoulder scanning him for injuries. He still leant against him and tried to calm down.  
Gently Moran put his arms around him and held him. He placed a kiss on his neck murmuring soothing words. Only then he felt him relax. Moriarty now held on to his very muscular arm and gave in. He even hummed.

“Did you see it?”

“See what? Sherlock Holmes or Captain Doctor Watson?” Moriarty giggled.

“Both. Sherlock wanked. Wasn’t that a bloody sight?” He sighed and Moran nodded.

“Tell me about Watson, Sebastian.”

“I tied him to the pole and gagged him with tape. Then I texted Sherlock. He has half an hour to get to him. As far as I could see he made it barely in time. He dove into the river and cut him off the pole. He made it of course. That DI picked them up with the help of a police cruiser.”

“I seriously hope this has been recorded?” Moran smiled down on him.

“I know what you like, boss, don’t I?” Moriarty turned in his embrace and palmed his face.

“Yes, you do, Tiger.”


	4. Chapter Four

When Sherlock woke the following morning, John was already up and drinking coffee. Sherlock shuffled over to him and was handed his mug.

“You could have woken me. I could have made coffee.”

“I needed to get up anyway. Don’t worry. I don’t hurt that much anymore. I am still bruised though. If Moran wouldn’t have cleaned the welts, I am not sure what might have happened. Surely they would be infected by now.”

“Should I send him my severe thanks?” Sherlock asked icily.

“Of course not. I thought of something entirely else. Why don’t we play their game and play it much better?” That made Sherlock look up. He was very, very interested.

“You mean we kidnap Moran, torture him and record that?”

“We could start with the kidnap. We could ask your brother for a suitable place to keep him?”

“You are wicked, John Hamish, you really are. I had no idea.” But he grinned.

“I just think we have to fight back. We can’t have him do these things to us. And I think your brother will agree.”

“I will ask him over for tonight.” Then he texted his brother and he confirmed.

***

Mycroft brought a bottle of Lagavulin and two bottles of wine for them.

“I think you two are needing this.” John thanked him and offered dinner.

“I will order Chinese?” Sherlock nodded and so did Mycroft. Sherlock even set up the table. John paid the delivery guy and filled the bowls. Mycroft even got rid of his jacket and waistcoat. He rolled up his sleeves and hungrily devoured two plates. Sherlock raised his eyebrows and picked the meat out of his rice.

“Sherlock, please don’t pick your food. Just eat.” He smiled at him and Sherlock smiled back and started to eat. Mycroft raised his eyebrows and looked between them. Interesting. When they were done, John poured the Lagavulin and they sat in front of the fire. Sherlock sat on John’s armrest and let his brother sit in his armchair. A clear sign for Mycroft that his special skills were needed.

“What do you two want?” Sherlock looked at John and John looked at Mycroft.

“I believe you already know what happened yesterday?”

“I glanced at the police report and I talked to DI Lestrade.”

“I had an idea regarding a reaction.” Mycroft tilted his head and leant a bit forward.

“Yes, John?” John looked him straight into the eyes.

“I am fed up. I want revenge. So, I thought of taking Moran somewhere nice and cosy. Keep him for several days and drive Moriarty into a frenzy.” Mycroft very thinly smiled.

“Sounds good to me. What can I do?” Sherlock looked at his brother.

“Provide the place and some people who watch. Help us with that. We will take care of everything else.”

“I might even provide help in taking him out. Maybe some drugs?” John looked at Mycroft.

“You like this …” He sounded surprised. Mycroft tilted his head.

“Well, it surely is something else for a change. Whatever you two need I’ll provide it.”

“Great. Here’s our list.” Sherlock texted him something and John looked at him.

“What list?” John asked.

“The list I wrote after we decided about our actions.” Sherlock raised one eyebrow.

“We haven’t decided about our actions yet.” John complained.

“I deduced your actions.” Sherlock almost looked a bit annoyed.

“What?” Mycroft’s eyes moved between them while sipping his drink. He enjoyed this. This was much-needed fun.

“OK then.” John cleared his throat.

“What did you deduce?” Sherlock smiled down on him.

“We will monitor his moves and see if he has any habits. Then we will need some of Mycroft’s men to take him into a safe-house.” Mycroft raised his finger.

“We probably need to x-ray him to see if Moriarty has him chipped.”

“Very good, brother-dear.” He looked approvingly at him and then continued.

“After having x-rayed him, we will put him into a locked room, leave the light on day and night, feed him or not, perhaps drug him to have some fun.” John grinned.

“We are such a wicked bunch …” All of them had another drink then.

***

Some days later Sherlock and John drove to Surrey looking forward to see Moran. They reached the safe-house around noon and prepared to watch the video feed. Mycroft was there, too, because he had coordinated the transport.

“He is still out cold. Let’s have a drink first.” Mycroft offered. They gathered in front of the screen and Anthea brought drinks.

“Thanks, dear.” Mycroft said. Sherlock and John nodded their thanks staring at the screen.

“Where did you intercept him?” John wanted to know.

“We caught him smoking in the back of his gym. My best marksman hit him with a tranquilliser dart. He was out cold in seconds. He was brought in and x-rayed several hours ago and should wake up soon. Oh, and he indeed was chipped. The GPS has been removed.” The same moment Moran began to move and John excitedly poked Sherlock in his side.

“See?” Sherlock looked down and smiled.

“I can see it, John. Don’t get a stroke, please.” John’s hand jerked away.

“I am sorry …” His earlobes became red and Mycroft had to hide a wide grin.

„Well, John, what would you like to do to him?“ John concentrated on Mycroft again.

“You don't want to know ...”

***

Moran dangled from the ceiling to which he was chained to. He was stripped except for his denims. His feet were a few inches above the ground.  
Sherlock, John, and Mycroft were looking at him through a one-sided window after having watched the recording of his abduction.

Moran had been awake for about three hours now and he hadn't been speaking a single word since then.

John was holding his mobile and scrolled through his inbox. He grinned making Sherlock a bit uneasy. He hadn't seen that kind of expression before. Mycroft saw the soldier, the fighter.

“What's so funny?” Sherlock asked.

“Moriarty has texted him. First of all, he was furious. He thought he had drunk himself into a stupor. Now he almost seems worried.”

“That's good, isn't it?” Mycroft asked.

“I want to see!” Sherlock reached out for the mobile and John handed it over.

“What do you want to do now?” Mycroft asked them.

“He won't be easy to scare. We should use drugs on him.”

“Any suggestions?” Sherlock wondered.

“A drug making him defenceless, pliable.”

“Like making him do ridiculous things?”

“No, I thought more of a sexual way.”

“What? John?”

“Moriarty considers him his mate. He will be beyond angry and upset.”

“And he put your cock into a vice.” Unconsciously John touched his crotch.

“Indeed, he did.” Mycroft scratched his chin.

“Who will be going in?” Sherlock placed the mobile on the table.

“I will. Moriarty wants me. If he sees me touching Moran, he will suffer a stroke.” And he didn't want John to be touched. Or want him to touch this filthy thing. Not that he would admit that. Of course not.

“Hopefully ...” Mycroft murmured. Of course, he knew why Sherlock did what he did.

“Sherlock, are you sure?” John asked and looked at him.

“Yes, I am. It's fine.” He only did all this because he wanted John to have his revenge.

“Before you go in there, I need to talk to you. Alone.” He shot Mycroft a look. Mycroft looked at him as if saying he knew anyway but he left the room. Sherlock looked at John.

“What is it? John?”

“Tell me the truth. Why do you want to go in there? This is not your style.” Sherlock worried his lips making John feel a bit uneasy. This was a situation in which he didn't want to lie to him.

“The truth is that I don't want you in there.” At least a part of the truth.

“Why? I don't care, I just want ...” Then his eyes widened.

“Oh ...”

“What?” Quite cold.

“You don't want me to touch him. Why?” Sherlock just couldn't stand it anymore. His emotions which he normally was able to hold perfectly at bay bubbled over and he smacked his palm on the table.

“Because I am jealous!” Then he stormed out of the room. Two seconds later Mycroft was back. John looked a bit helplessly at him. Mycroft just shook his head.

“You didn't see that coming, did you?” John shook his head.

“Not at all.” He bit his lip.

”He took care of me after the last kidnapping. I was in his bed and he had applied the ointment. Everywhere.” He cleared his throat.

“I had to turn my back on him afterwards.”

“He just willed it away.” John stared at Mycroft.

“You mean he has ...”

“My brother has feelings for you, Dr Watson. You need to talk to him.”

“I never would have thought.”

“He never was interested enough in somebody. His body is just transport.” John laughed.

“I know. And I told him on many occasions that I am not gay.”

“He never told you because he was afraid you might leave him.”

“I would never leave your brother. He saved my life, Mycroft.”

“You know, he says the same about you.”

“What? How?” Mycroft shook his head.

“You two need to talk before something happens right now. Go outside. He is smoking. Go!” John left the room and left the building. He looked both to his left and right and found Sherlock sitting on a rock smoking. He looked up when he approached.

“I just talked to your brother.” Sherlock inhaled the smoke and closed his eyes.

“And he babbled something enormously stupid, didn't he?”

“I didn't think it was stupid.” He threw the cigarette away and blew out the smoke.

“So?” Nothing more. John reached out for him and took his hand. He could feel him tense but didn't let go.

“If you only want to go in there because you are jealous, then don't. If you are afraid, I would leave you, please don't. I would happily let him go, set him free, take him home myself, if it would make anything better.” Sherlock looked at their hands together.

“When you were in my bed, I thought I might explode. I was so tense. After I have pulled you out of the water and had Greg taken care of you, I felt like my fingers were plugged into electricity.”

“You touched my prick. I had to face away from you afterwards.”

“I thought ...”

“I know what you thought.”

“Really?” Sherlock smiled but he looked sad.

“Listen, Sherlock. We should go home and talk. Let's forget Moran, it's not important anymore.”

“But it is. We need to teach Moriarty a lesson.”

“Maybe later. Not today. Today it's us.”

“There is an us?”

“Let's find out.”

***

Sherlock and John went home and let Mycroft take care of Moran. As soon as they had left Mycroft changed into something comfy and had Moran drugged. He sent his guards outside and unchained him himself. Moran looked at him when falling down and right into Mycroft's arms. He didn't recognise him and just held on to him.

The camera was on when Moran was on his knees sucking Mycroft off. His palms were flat on his thighs and he was bloody fantastic. Mycroft looked down and then directly grinned into the camera. This Moran was really good and his hands came up and were on his head. He held him in place when he started to fuck his throat. He deeply moaned and swallowed around his head. Mycroft came deep down and he swallowed everything and cleaned him afterwards. Then he just sat on his heels waiting. Mycroft scratched over his scalp whispering:

“You know, I might keep you a while longer. Would you like that?” Moran looked up at Mycroft but said nothing. The drug was really good. He was pliant, didn't talk back but had all his abilities. Even his eyes showed no hate or anger; just some sort of curiosity.  
Mycroft held out his hand and Moran took it. He pulled him up and they were the same height. He brought him into a room and undressed him. He licked his lips when looking at him. He had several scars and bruises. Also, some tattoos.

“You are breath-taking.” Mycroft admired his looks. Then he checked his watch. The drug should wear off by now, at least a little. Mycroft decided to take the risk.

***

Sebastian was floating. He had moments when he felt and saw. He wasn't able to talk or act and somehow, he didn't want. He knew who that man was. Mycroft Holmes, the ice-man, the British government and Sherlock's older brother. Dangerous, just as dangerous as James.

James. Jim. Jimmy. Oh, God! What would he think if he ever found out? He would kill him. Slowly. He was sweating but the fear slowly disappeared.

The next moment Sebastian was almost clear and he was flat on his back looking up at Mycroft. He felt good, warm, aroused. He closed his eyes and quietly moaned.

Mycroft looked at him and smiled. His hands roamed over his heated skin and he knelt between his slightly spread legs. He shoved them up and leant down. He forced his tongue into his mouth making him groan.

He was sure about the fact that the drug wore off because now Moran's arms came up and around his waist. And he was kissing back. Then there was some licking, biting, and sucking and Mycroft became wanton. So was Sebastian.

But he was smart enough to stay where he was. He knew he could maybe hurt him but he wouldn't ever be able to escape. And right now, he had fun. Mycroft fucking Holmes was fucking brilliant in bed. He wouldn't have guessed.

Sebastian could see that Mycroft knew he wasn't drugged anymore. He also saw that he didn't care. Sebastian's left hand was on Mycroft's nape pressing him down so they could kiss. He looked surprised for a second but then followed the lead. Sebastian's right was on his bum massaging and stroking. His fingers were strong.

Mycroft sucked his tongue and bit down, too. He sucked blood and suddenly pushed inside. Sebastian just closed his eyes and moaned into his mouth. His grip tightened. Mycroft started to move fast and hard rotating his hips and hitting on his prostate.  
Sebastian clearly was surprised. He made it good for him, pleasured him. He spread his legs wider and crossed his ankles over his spine deepening the angle. Suddenly he felt Mycroft's body tense and he screamed and shot his load into him. Sebastian clenched and came, too. Both of them were panting. His legs fell apart and he closed his eyes.

Mycroft looked down and wondered what had just happened. He pulled out and got up. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants. Sebastian just watched him. Then he cleared his throat.

“What will happen now?”

“You will leave.”

“Did you record this?” Mycroft nodded.

“Yes, I did.” Sebastian got up on his elbows and chewed on his lips.

“Did you send it to Jim?”

“Not yet.” Mycroft admitted.

“Wasn't that the whole purpose?”

“This? No.” He pointed his finger at Sebastian.

“Absolutely not.”

“You are saying what exactly?”

“Our actual plan was torturing you in a sexual way and sending the video to Moriarty. But Sherlock and John left early.”

“Why?”

“Why the torture or why they left?” Sebastian just tilted his head.

“Please, Mr Holmes.”

“John wanted his revenge. Rather understandable, isn't it?” Sebastian slowly nodded.

“Yes, it is. You know, I like him. He is a fighter and I hated to have to hurt him. But Jim can be very convincing. And I need him.”

“You do everything for him, don't you? You crave his love or whatever he gives you.”

“Yes, I do. I can't ever lose him. I just can't. He is the only one who … Never mind.”

“The only one who loves you, who cares for you, who gives you his attention or any attention?”

“Ever.”

“I see.” They looked at each other and finally, Mycroft made a step towards him. He gently touched his face moving his thumb over his cheekbone.

“I want to see you again.”

“Why?”

“I am not sure.” Sebastian licked his lips and then looked directly into his eyes.

“I can't deny that you were giving me your full attention. And you didn't hurt me on purpose. I liked it even when the drugs wore off. You were good to me and I won't ever forget it.”

“What will you tell him?” Sebastian shrugged.

“I actually have no idea. Normally you can't hide anything from him.”

“I could have you hypnotised. Then you would behave as if nothing happened. He won't ever know.”

“That would be the best, I think. Please do it.” Mycroft looked at him and finally asked:

“What about you?” Sebastian seriously looked at him.

“What about me? Are you asking me if I want to see you again?” Mycroft straightened his body.

“Yes, I do. So?” Sebastian tilted his head.

“Yes.” Mycroft looked a bit surprised.

“Really?”

“Yes. I have no idea how you are going to make it but I will be there.” Mycroft grinned.

“Don't you worry, I'll take care of everything. You won't even notice being taken.” Mycroft looked smug.

“You know, I would even come on my own volition. You could text me?” Sebastian suggested and slowly stood from the bed. He straightened his body and Mycroft's eyes roamed over him.

“Like what you see?” Sebastian smirked and turned around once. Mycroft lifted his head in defiance.

“Quite nice, yes.” He cleared his throat.

“Anyway, we will return you in a few. Moriarty will receive the video. No harm will be done to you.” Mycroft turned to the door.

“Will I get my clothes back?” Sebastian asked picking up the blanket. Mycroft looked over his shoulder.

“Why?” He grinned and left.

Sebastian sighed and shook his head.

Soon after a man in a doctor's coat hypnotised him. He also gave him some dubious pills but he took them without a fuss. The effect came instantly. His eyes drooped and gone he was.

He woke when someone called his name. Several times it pierced into his brain and he pulled a face. He felt rather cold but the ground beneath him was rather soft. He forced his eyes open and groaned blinking into the sky.

“Sebby!” Another time. He knew the voice. It was Jim calling his name. Suddenly he remembered he had been kidnapped by Mycroft Holmes. And he remembered everything.

He ground his teeth and sat up on the ground. He actually was outside. He was half-naked in the woods. Steps crunched through the trees and the voice came closer.

“Sebastian!” He cleared his throat and tried to shout. It came out very throaty but out it came.

“Jimmy, I am here!” He coughed and tried to get up. He only managed to sit and his arse hurt. He pulled a face.

Then James Moriarty appeared from the midst of the tree-line. The moment their eyes met Jim dashed forward. He fell on his knees by his side and his hands touched him all over his body.

“Are you hurt? What did they do to you? What did they not show me?”

“I am sore. And they... They...” Only then he understood. He remembered everything Mycroft did to him but he wasn't able to speak about it. Wonderful. The only words that came out were:

“I can't remember...” He slowly shook his head and looked into Jim's dark eyes. And only then he saw the way he looked.

“What happened to you?” Sebastian asked looking him over. He actually wore denims and one of his t-shirts. It was way oversized on his smaller body. Plus, he was dirty. His hands and fingernails were almost black and he must have fallen down several times. Tears had left traces in the dirt on his face. His hair was a mess and there even stuck something in it. Slowly Sebastian reached out and plucked a leaf from his hair.

“I got the ice-man's message. I saw the film he made. Finally, he sent me an e-mail where to find you. It took me some time but here I am.” His hand still rested on Sebastian's body.

“And you came alone. Are you insane?” Sebastian glared at him and finally, there was the glee back in Jim's eyes. He spread his arms wide and tilted his head. Sebastian quietly laughed and shook his head.

“Let's go home...” Sebastian groaned and got up. He pulled Jim with him. Slowly they walked through the trees until they reached the car. The car looked just as damaged as James Moriarty. He must have bumped against several things. They closed the doors and Moriarty put sunglasses on his nose and raced away.

***

There had been cameras in the woods where Sebastian had been left behind. Mycroft could watch everything of their encounter and he raised a brow when seeing James Moriarty. He wondered if he actually loved Sebastian Moran. Or if he was simply protecting what was his. The emotion of love was alien to him. He understood possession though.

He wondered how Sherlock coped with his new-found fondness for Dr Watson. Was it love they shared or simply sex?

He wondered if he could love Moran but shook his head rather soon. He thought some more about men he knew and finally found someone who deserved his undivided attention.

Gregory Lestrade. Yes, the fine Detective Inspector who worked with Sherlock. Slowly a smile came up on Mycroft's face.

He sat down behind his desk and pulled up the CCTV in front of and inside 221B.


	5. Chapter Five

John's nightmares had returned but he hadn't told Sherlock. Sherlock though knew because he had been woken by John's screams in the middle of the night. Several times he had walked upstairs and into his room. He had been sitting on his bed and tried to wake him up. Finally, he found out that his voice soothed him and he started to read for him. He went so far as to record several stories and placed the player on his nightstand to be able to leave again.  
He would have preferred to stay by his side but one night John yelled at him to leave him the fuck alone. Sherlock paled and left.

One night John found out about the recorded stories. It was endearing in such a special way. He stared at the player and shook his head. Then he cried. He had been mean to him. He loved him but he couldn't stand him close by when he was like this. He was afraid he could hurt him, lash out and hurt him.

And still, after having been told to fuck off, Sherlock had done something good to him. Him. Damaged goods. He quietly snorted. He desperately needed to tell him sorry. He also needed to tell him something else.

John stood and slowly moved downstairs. Sherlock wasn't home. His coat was gone. John sighed and took a shower first. He instantly felt much better.

Now he wanted breakfast and tea. In the kitchen waited a tray for him. There was tea ready and also some boxes that kept food warm for a while. They had somehow appeared in their kitchen when he had been recovering.

John shook his head and smiled. He opened the boxes and found sausages, scrambled eggs, and beans. There was toast and some tomatoes and cucumbers. Had Sherlock done all this? For him?

He put everything on the table and ate. It was good and he really enjoyed it. Afterwards, he cleaned up and put everything into the dishwasher. He took his computer and sat down in his armchair. He read what he had last written in his blog and found it rather boring. He kept editing it for a while and waited for Sherlock to come home.

He returned after several hours and carefully looked at John when entering their flat. John closed his computer and stood while Sherlock hung up his coat. They slowly approached each other.

“Thank you for the breakfast. I enjoyed it a lot.” John said not quite looking at him.

“You are welcome. I am glad you liked it.” Sherlock quietly replied. Then there came nothing. John cleared his throat.

“I am so sorry, Sherlock.” Now Sherlock looked directly at him.

“What for?” Sherlock sounded confused.

“I yelled at you the other night. It wasn't right. You meant well. You did well.” John finally looked up. Sherlock needed a minute to react. His face was blank. This he had not expected.

“I believe it is my fault; what happened to you is. You get kidnapped because of me. Moriarty thinks... Whatever. Without me, you would be just fine.” His voice was rough. Now John reached out for him.

“No, you are wrong. Without you, I would be dead already.” Sherlock stared at him and clearly didn't understand. John would explain it later because now came the most different part of it all.

“There is more I need to tell you.” Sherlock felt sick to the bones. He wasn't used to such a feeling and was very, very helpless.

“Yes?” He wasn't able to say more than the one word.

“I love you.” The three words finally had been spoken and John felt utterly relaxed. Free.

Sherlock's heart lost a few steps and then started to thump way harder. A fine red coloured his cheekbones and a smile tugged up his lips. Was this happiness? Pure happiness? Another alien emotion. But it felt great. So great.

“And I you...” He croaked it out and they stared into each other's eyes.

John recognised Sherlock was quite paralysed and he took over. He slung his arms around him and pulled him close. He straightened up and stood on his tiptoes. And then he kissed him. Slowly and languidly. And he felt him melt against him.

***

Mycroft was very pleased. Now he knew how to do it.


End file.
